


Flicker

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blackouts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27046165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: During a Brakebills blackout, Eliot seeks out his favorite first-year boy but finds him occupied. Eliot decides to play, too.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: Kinktober Horror Erotica Collection by Quentins_Quill





	Flicker

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober: The Queliot Edition, Day 16: "Carnality By Candlelight."

The Physical Kids cottage sat in darkness. 

A first-year student, eager to show off his skills, cast an incomplete spell at the P.A. lab and while the professor had managed to keep anyone from getting hurt, power was down all over the Brakebills campus. 

Left to their own devices, the occupants of the cottage drank wine, played cards, and gossiped by candlelight. Now bored with Push and poker, Eliot set down his cards and glanced around. 

“Where did Quentin get to?” 

“He said he was going to his room to read,” one of the second-years said. 

“Reading by candlelight? That can’t be good for the eyes.” Eliot stood and stretched his long frame. “I better go check on the lad.” 

“Uh huh,” Margo smiled as she shuffled a deck of cards, and he gave her a long-suffering glance before heading up the steps, using a pillar candle in a jar to light his way. The second floor, shrouded in darkness, was quiet as a tomb too, all the doors closed. Eliot went to Quentin’s door and paused; it was closed but not latched, and Eliot didn’t sense any wards there. He nudged the door open with one foot and peered through the crack. 

The end of Quentin’s bed faced the door, and a circle of light bobbed under the covers like a UFO in a cloudbank. Eliot cocked his head, brow furrowing, then a sound drifted from that area as well, something between a sharp intake of air and a muffled moan. Eliot’s eyebrows shot up and it occurred to him why the circle of light--a flashlight, no doubt--was bobbing and wavering. He grinned--his first-year favorite was jerking off. In addition to the flashlight, two candles burned in jars on the nightstand, giving the room an intimate air. 

That huff of breath sounded out again and Eliot crept toward the end of the bed, where he could see Quentin’s legs splayed out under the blankets. He was hidden beneath them completely, something Eliot found endearingly shy. He lifted one end of the blankets, knowing Quentin was focused on his erection, slipped in headfirst, and crawled up between Quentin’s thighs. 

“Hi there. Can I play too?” He asked, and Quentin gave a shout of surprise and panic. The flashlight thumped to the floor and went dark. Quentin tossed the covers aside, blushing in the dark at the telltale scent of solo sex. A paperback flew from the tangle of blankets and Eliot snatched it from the air. 

“Give me that!” Quentin almost hissed it, but Eliot held it out of reach and squinted at the title in the candlelight. 

“ _ Bawdy Bunkhouse Boys _ ,” he read aloud. The cover featured a drawing of shirtless young cowboys, one dressed in nothing but a pair of leather chaps and a Stetson. Quentin’s face burned as hot as the candles on his nightstand. 

“Do you fucking  _ mind _ ? If I wanted company, I would have stayed downstairs!” 

“And if you’d wanted me to not find you masturbating, you would have locked and warded your door,” Eliot replied. “Don’t be embarrassed Q . . . we all need to get off at one time or another. It’s healthy, actually.” He flipped through the book and noticed a piece of post-it note marking a page. He glanced over it. “Bondage with horse tack?” He looked up at Quentin. “You’ve bookmarked it.” 

“So?” Quentin snapped, taking refuge in righteous anger. “It’s my book!” 

“So it is,” Eliot smiled, not bothered by Quentin’s anger--he knew full well why the door hadn’t been locked. “But you know, I’m being rude.” He shifted closer. “I interrupted you. So let me help.” He opened the book with one hand and wrapped the other around Quentin’s cock. The younger man gasped. 

“El!” 

“Shhh . . . don’t worry,” Eliot smiled. “We’re friends, Q. I like you very much, you know that, don’t you?” 

“Yes . . .” 

“Good,” Eliot smiled and began to stroke him as he read by candlelight, telling the story of how the big stud ranch hand bound and dominated the smaller, weaker, newcomer in a locked stall in the back of the barn. He chose different voices for each, stroking Quentin’s erection and rubbing a clever thumb over the wet head. By the time the smaller man was bound with leather strips taken from nearby bridles and harnesses and gagged with a metal snaffle bit, Quentin was trembling and touching his own chest, toying with his nipples as he thrust into Eliot’s hand. 

“Oh my.” Eliot turned a page with deliberate casualness. “It looks like Big Jake is going to bend poor, helpless Paul over a hay bale. Paul’s hands are strapped behind his back and Big Jake is pulling his jeans down. Can you imagine being that helpless, knowing you’re about to take a big, hard cock up your ass--” 

Eliot got no further. Quentin gasped and his hips bucked before he shot hard, all but covering Eliot’s fingers. Eliot watched Quentin’s eyes close as bliss wrote itself all over his face. His cock jerked and pulsed in Eliot’s hand, then began to soften. After a moment, Quentin opened his eyes. They gleamed like pools of fresh ink in the low light. Eliot smiled and reached for the wipes Quentin had set out beforehand and cleaned himself up. 

“El . . .” 

“Don’t overthink it, Quentin. Your door was unlatched.” He smiled knowingly. “And you enjoyed yourself, right?” 

“Uh huh,” Quentin admitted. But damn, he thought he’d been subtle about that door. 

“So did I.” Eliot cleaned Quentin up before gathering up the blankets and slipping into bed next to Quentin. “Budge over, Coldwater.” 

Quentin budged over. Eliot covered them both with the blankets and after a moment, Quentin made himself the small spoon and nestled back against Eliot. The lights would probably come back by morning, Quentin reasoned, but morning seemed unimportant and far away . . . like a candle flame flickering in the distance. 

THE END 


End file.
